


Comfort

by Akiko_Natsuko



Series: Stingue [5]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, Friendship, Love, M/M, Sick Character, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-01 11:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16764550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akiko_Natsuko/pseuds/Akiko_Natsuko
Summary: Sting never deals well with illness, much less when Rogue is away...





	Comfort

Rogue sighed as he stared up at the train information board with a defeated expression. He’d been trying to get home for nearly two days now, but a bad storm had caused havoc on the railway and they were only just getting the trains running again. But there were still massive delays and diversions, and he wanted to groan as he realized that it was going to take him hours longer than normal to get back to the guild. For a moment he contemplated just giving into temptation and using his shadows to get home, but he had promised Sting that he wouldn’t do that unless it was a life and death situation after the darkness had flared up again a month ago, and somehow, he doubted that missing home and his partner fell under that category. Grumpy, and more homesick than he wanted to admit he turned away and headed towards the platform, figuring that he might as well get onto the first train that was leaving and hope that he had better luck further along the line.

****

Sting massaged his temples, the dull pain that had appeared a couple of hours ago had been growing constantly, and over the last few minutes it had settled into an incessant throbbing. Gritting his teeth, he tried to push it aside again and focus on the pile of paperwork on the desk in front of him, a task made harder by his complete and utter lack of enthusiasm for the task. Of all the things he was now responsible for as Guild Master, it was the paperwork that he hated the most. It took forever to do, and in this case, it had stopped him from being able to go on the job with Rogue even though they had both been looking forward to it as it had been a few weeks since they’d had the chance to do anything with just the two of them. Lector and Frosch had gone to visit Happy and the others, and they had been hoping to take a little vacation once the job was done, but then Orga and the others had ‘accidently’ nearly wrecked a village and he had been flooded with work and demands for compensation.

In the end Rogue had decided to take the job anyway, pointing out that they needed the money and that there was very little he could do to help. Sting had tried to protest, but he had to admit that his paperwork rarely happened when the Shadow Dragon-slayer was around, mainly because Rogue had a very bad habit of just sending it off into the shadows when he got bored, and then he was the one that ended up with the Council coming down like a ton of bricks on his head. It had been fine the first couple of days as he had been busy enough to stop himself from missing his partner, but as time went by it had become harder and harder to distract himself from the fact that Rogue wasn’t here. And then he had heard about the train delays and it had taken the combined efforts of Minerva, Rufus and Orga to stop him running off to fetch the other Dragon-slayer, worried that he might give into temptation to use his shadows to travel again.

However, given that his partner hadn’t returned yet he was clearly waiting for the trains to start running again and Sting was now torn between relief and irritation. He missed Rogue… _he missed his mate._ Letting out an irritated huff he rubbed at his temples once more wincing at the pain that action caused, snatching his fingers back and closing his eyes and feeling a momentary spark of relief as the pain eased somewhat. However, as soon as he opened them once more he was hit by a fresh spike of pain and this time he couldn’t hold back a small gasp of pain, his eyes watering as he slumped against the desk letting his eyes drift shut once more.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been sat like that, but he nearly fell out of his chair when a cool hand came to rest against his cheek. Blearily he lifted his head, blinking in surprise when he found Yukino leaning over him with a worried expression on her face as she studied him.

“What?” He mumbled.

“Go home,” She ordered him sternly as she removed her hand, and he let out a soft noise of protest at losing the comforting touch and the temporary coolness it had brought with it before forcing himself to straighten up.

“I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” Yukino retorted as he swayed slightly in his seat, placing both hands on her hips as she stared at him with narrowed eyes. “You look terrible, and I’m sure that Rogue won’t want to come home and find you’ve worked yourself into the infirmary.” She knew that it was slightly unfair to use Rogue against him in this way, especially when it was clear just how much he was missing the other Dragon-slayer, but she knew from experience that it was often the only way to get him to do things that he didn’t want to do…oddly enough it worked just the same with Rogue.

“But…” Sting protested weakly, not wanting to admit just how unappealing the idea of going back to his empty apartment was. and instead he just gestured at the paperwork he still had to go through in the hopes that it would get her to back off and let him stay.

“I’ll do it,” she replied with a sigh, trying not to show how dismayed she was by her own words. But she was determined not to let him stay, and if that meant helping him out with the paperwork then so be it. Besides if Rufus and the others got back later she could always force them to help out, especially as they were probably responsible for most of it.

“But…”

“Sting!” She cut across his weak attempt at protesting, this time inserting a sliver of steel into her voice and he sighed as he realized that she really wasn’t going to let this go. And to be honest he really didn’t have the energy to keep arguing with her, the pain in his head was still growing steadily and he didn’t even try to hide his wince as he finally got to his feet.

“Fine,” he mumbled as he had to grasp the desk to steady himself, before raising his head and offering her a weak but sincere smile as he added quietly. “Thank you.”

**

By the time he stumbled into his apartment, his head was throbbing constantly, pulsing in time with his heart beat and his entire body had begun to ache and he wanted to groan. He absolutely hated being ill, and he couldn’t remember the last time that he had been on his own whilst unwell, although a small smile slipped free as he remembered how flustered Rogue had been last time. The Shadow Dragon-slayer was a worrier at the best of times, and that instinct had been thrown into overdrive when Sting was ill. It had been endearing in some ways, but it had taken him ages to convince Rogue that he really was better once he got over the flu bug that had laid him low, as Rogue had still been consumed by the need to look after him. In the end he had only escaped because Rogue himself had managed to catch the same thing and had needed Sting to take care of him.

He chuckled softly at the memory before gripping his head in displeasure as pain lanced through it, his humour fading rapidly as he headed for the bedroom. There was no medicine in the house as they had used it all last time and he’d forgotten to replenish it (something that Rogue would probably hit him over the head for at a later date), and so he would just have to hope that sleep would help get rid of whatever this was. Still there was a sense of disappointment as he stepped into the empty bedroom and he pouted at the bed for a moment, before gingerly stripping down to his boxers and crawling under the covers. He sighed in relief as he rested his aching head against the cool material of the pillows, but he would have happily traded it for the warmth of his mate curled around him and he buried his head, fingers reaching out to claw at the empty side of the bed.

_Rogue…_

****

When Sting managed to rouse himself mid-morning he was dismayed to realise that he felt even worse than he had the day before, groaning pitifully to himself as he curled up further beneath the covers, trying to ignore how large and empty the bed felt without Rogue there to curl up with him. He managed to doze for nearly ten minutes before he couldn’t ignore how empty the bed was, and with an irritated sigh he slipped out from under the covers, shivering slightly and narrowly avoiding staggering into the wardrobe. Catching himself he winced as pain lanced through his head, reaching up to grip it before he turned and headed for the bathroom in the hopes that a warm shower would make him feel a little more alive.

The warm water helped to ease his aching body, but it did little to help his pounding head and increasingly itchy throat and after a fruitless rummage through the bathroom cabinet he gave it up as a lost cause before heading back to bed. He lacked the energy or desire to try and find something to eat, even if he could hear Rogue’s voice in the back of his mind telling him to eat and muttering nastily about absent worrywarts he crawled back into bed. Slumping under the covers, feeling exhausted even though he hadn’t done anything, and not fighting as his eyes slipped shut, coughing painfully for a moment and with a low grumble he curled up into a smaller ball, feeling even more miserable than before. _Please hurry up Rogue_ …He knew that he was useless when he was ill, but it felt ten times worse without Rogue, even if all the Shadow Dragon-slayer did was boss him around and scold him for getting ill in the first place.

****

Evening had already fallen when Rogue finally let himself into their apartment, unsurprised to find the living room and kitchen in darkness. He’d gone straight to the guild when he’d finally made it back into town, expecting to find Sting there still working on his paperwork as he knew that it would take his partner days to get through that pile. Instead he had been startled to find Yukino and an incredibly sulky looking Rufus working through the pile, which had been enough to send him into a panic, and it had felt like the bottom of his stomach had dropped at the news that his partner was ill. He knew exactly what Sting was like when ill and he couldn’t remember the last time the other had been on his own whilst he was ill. Yukino had barely finished explaining what was going on before he was already rushing out of the door, heading in search of a pharmacy before he went home as he remembered that the medical cupboard had been empty…not that he would’ve trusted Sting to work out what to take on his own even if they’d had medicine, because the idiot had been busy dosing him with indigestion tablets instead of painkillers the last time he’d been injured, and it had taken them nearly three days to work out why he was still in so much pain.

“Sting?!” He called as he dumped his luggage by the door, holding onto the bag of medicine he’d bought before heading to the bedroom. The room was dark and quiet, although he could hear the ragged, congested breathing coming from the bed and he cautiously flicked on the light as he stepped in, dark eyes softening as they landed on the huddled heap in the middle of the bed. The other Dragon-slayer was always hopeless when he was ill, and it looked like his vague hopes that Sting would have managed to do slightly better this time had been dashed. Shaking his head fondly he circled around to the other side of their bed, crouching down as he reached out to pull the duvet aside so that he could see his mate’s face, voice soft as he reached out and brushed his fingers against a flushed cheek. “Sting?”

Slowly the other Dragon-slayer began to stir, blinking sleepily at him with hazy blue eyes and Rogue smiled slightly at the sight, knowing that he was one of the few people that Sting would allow to see him looking so out of it.

“…R-Rogue?”

“Hey,” He greeted quietly reaching out to brush messy hair out of the way, his expression darkening slightly as he felt the heat coming off of Sting’s skin and he bit his lip slightly as the other Dragon-slayer let out a soft mewling sound as he pressed into the touch. For a moment Sting soaked in the coolness and comfort being offered before he blinked and pulled back, slightly more awareness in his gaze as it settled on Rogue.

“You’re back…”

“Yeah,” Rogue resisted the urge to roll his eyes, apparently more awareness didn’t stop him from stating the obvious, but it was impossible to be irritated in the face of his mate’s suffering and he sighed adding apologetically. “Sorry it took so long.” It had been bad enough that he had ended up being away for a lot longer than originally planned, but for it to coincide with Sting being ill…he pulled a face at that thought before asking anxiously. “How are you feeling?”

“Rotten,” Sting grumbled petulantly, not really mollified by the apology even though he knew that it hadn’t been Rogue’s fault that it had taken him so long to get home.

“I figured,” Rogue sighed, struggling to stop his lips quirking up at the other’s tone, the predictability of the response reassuring him that it wasn’t anything too serious. “Sit up I brought you some medicine. Don’t give me that look,” he scolded at the filthy look Sting shot at him, unsure of whether it was because he’d been told to move or because he didn’t want to take the medicine, before deciding that it was probably a combination of the two.

With clear reluctance Sting struggled into an upright position, rubbing sleepily at his eyes and Rogue struggled not to melt at the cute image the other was providing at the moment. Not that he would survive without getting punched if he ever voiced that thought aloud. Instead he busied himself with finding the medicine that would help with his mate’s fever, ignoring the dark look from Sting when he set aside some herbal drinks that would ease the sore throat he was no doubt suffering from, knowing that it would be a fight to get Sting to actually drink them.

“Here,” he held out a couple of tablets, narrowing his eyes when Sting went to shake his head stubbornly and after a brief staring match the other Dragon-slayer capitulated with an angry mutter. Rogue watched intently to make sure that he actually swallowed them, arching an eyebrow when Sting stuck out his tongue with a challenging look to prove he’d taken them. “They’ll kick in, in a little while so I’ll go and make some tea and something to eat,” he made to get to his feet, only to be halted by Sting reaching out to grasp his arm and he had to lean forward to steady the blond when he wobbled violently. “Sting?!”

“Stay…”

“But…” Rogue hesitated not wanting to deny the other but knowing that he needed to eat something and have a drink to soothe his throat, however he knew that the fight was lost when Sting gazed up at him with large pleading eyes.

“Please?”

“Fine,” Rogue muttered, promising himself that one day he would manage to resist that combination of puppy dog eyes and pleading tone. His lips curling up as he recalled the day that Sting had followed him around insistently, before resorting to that combination to convince him to pair up with him and join Sabertooth. “Move over then,” he ordered as he rose, gently nudging at Sting until the blond shifted to the other side of the bed, the other obliging with a small smirk of triumph at having got his own way.

Swiftly shrugging off his clothes until he was down to his boxers, Rogue slipped into the warm space that Sting had just vacated. He had barely managed to pull the duvet over himself before he was enthusiastically accosted by his partner, frowning as he caught the overwhelming heat coming off the body pressed against his.

“Sting,” he murmured softly as he willingly wrapped his arms around the blond who let out a quiet hum of contentment at the gesture, peeping up at him sleepily for a minute before burying his face against Rogue’s shoulder, the familiar scent soothing him further. Smiling at the gesture and the familiar clinginess that appeared whenever Sting was ill, Rogue leant down to press a gentle kiss into messy blonde hair, feeling tension that he hadn’t been aware of leaching out of him. Sighing with relief he nestled his head against Sting’s. “I’m home,” he whispered, receiving a soft noise of acknowledgement before Sting went lax against him as his breathing eased out.

Despite his intentions to stay awake and keep watch over the sleeping Sting, Rogue found himself drifting off a short while later as well. Sting’s warmth and steady breathing lulling him to sleep as well as the comfort of being home.


End file.
